johnny9fingers: (Default)
So it looks like we're going the full whack bidding on this house we want, some two roads away from us here in leafy East Dulwich. I say leafy because the streets are full of the blighters; Autumnal and golden; sodden in the rain and adhering to cars, pavements, walls, and shoe-soles. Our golden October has extended somewhat: and this part of London has only today turned chill, with small but noticeable bite in the air. Keats' season, or Eliot's season, it is its own thing, but yet also harbinger of winter. And mayhap we move to a bigger house in the New Year.

Plans for Christmas. Somehow to include the Mother.
Seeing the New Year in at Hackness with Fra and Cressy et al.

In the meantime, I had a gig with the 'Wedding Band' on Friday.
Orchardleigh House in Somerset.

I took my new Line 6 Pod X3 Live out for its first live airing. I knew that this was going to be an interesting test because:

1) The nature of the venue (pretty small room) and
2) The set-up requirements (set up between meals) and
3) Costs (cheapo gig, bid because we weren't getting much work when it was booked)

Ergo, we went minus a PA and engineer. Jane had bought an interesting bit of kit: one Bose L1 Model II PA for the vocals and sax. The band had to rely on their backline apart from Martin, the drummer and our leader, who played acoustically, and could still have overwhelmed the backline and PA at any point he chose. Dexterity and taste from the recognised beast in the band (it's in the job description: drummer - ride motorcycle through hotel bedroom window into swimming pool - ask anyone who's ever been in a band) is not expected, but with Martin....well, he's just too damn good to let a cliche overwhelm him, however much fun it may be to do so.  I'm going to start calling him 'The Colonel' though in fact he's much more like a perfect Adjutant: his organisational and motivational skills have kept the Wedding Band in work and getting to and from venues for almost twenty years. It wouldn't work without him, and this stripped-down-system experiment was his call.

Got to say it was a bit good, actually.

Jane's piece of kit worked really well in the small space. We all turned down: I could get decent sounds at listenable volumes with the POD, though without some of the more interesting programming I had done for the GNX3. Such is. Good and usable sounds nevertheless.

My ongoing wrestling with EVH's 'Beat it' solo continued with mixed results.

We sight-read, first time played without rehearsal, 'I've got you under my skin'. Which I should have known; but most published versions are in Fm; Frank S did it in Ebmin, and I'm too occasional a player and arranger these day to transpose easily in my head. As an aside I used to have a guitar in my hands for four-to-six hours a day every day, and kept musical arrangements in my head like I had previously (in another life in a decade or more before) kept bridge hands. These last four or five years have left me rusty beyond embarrassment. And it's not going to change. And I'm not certain how bothered about it all I am anyway.

So some small wins then.

Today we went to the Whisky Exchange and I bought a brace of Ardbeg's Airigh Nam Beist and a single cask they decanted from the barrel into a 40cl bottle for me called 'Ord Mor' ABV 62.5%. I've had this one before last month, and so it must be coming to the end of the barrel. I almost bought a brace of them too, but the three bottles were already hitting my wallet to the tune of £170-(mumble)-odd. I can only drink one of the Beists as the other one is to keep for twenty-one-odd years, give or take however many months.

So, another small win there too.

Scored the tiniest amount of weed for high-days and holidays, but actually feel no need to smoke it regularly.

Blimey, it's wins all round: of expensive kinds, admittedly.

Now comes the biggest test of all: the scan. Fingers crossed. Let's hope our luck is holding....

Urrgh!

May. 31st, 2010 12:26 pm
johnny9fingers: (Default)
'Kay....

Thursday was interesting. Due to my asthma and hayfever, I'd never been to Chelsea Flower Show. My Old Man had attended without fail when alive, so I half expected to meet his shade, Hamlet's father like, somewhere in the undergrowth.

Fra and Cressy were in good form. We wandered about the show for some three or four hours, sipping champagne or Pimm's, and generally bantering on about this and that, while oohing and aahing at the plants, furniture, and statuary on show. F & C left to relieve the nanny at about 6ish, so SWMBO and I killed time until cocktails at Linley's. Some of the furniture there is pretty astonishing. I'm rather fond of the humidors myself. As and when we move, I'll consider one for the library. Linley's work is both idiosyncratic and excellent; though hugely expensive.

After cocktails, Madame and colleagues, with me in tow, ended up at the Ebury, where we ate and drank yet more, whilst exchanging our favourite Princess Margaret stories. By now, despite bottles of alcohol (or maybe because of) I was starting to wheeze somewhat.

Friday, SWMBO left early in the morn to meet her sister-in-law, in darkest Surrey, for lunch and shopping. By the time I caught up with them, my hayfever had hit me thwack across the side of my head, and, to put it bluntly, I was a seething mass of snot and mucus, with severe projectile potential.

Given that, it may come as no surprise that sleep evaded me on Friday night, especially when one takes into account the degree of concentration I needed to monitor my breathing. Such bliss.

So I pretty well lost all of Saturday to sleep-drunkeness coupled with anti-histamine stupidity. As an aside, anti-histamines, for me, divide into two broad groups: the ones that send me to sleep, and the ones that give me migraines. As is, I have been prescribed one that only makes me slightly sleepy, and only with small headaches: which could be considered the smallest negative result in an always-less-than-zero-sum game.

I've been playing catch-up for the rest of the weekend.

I may just avoid Chelsea next year. For the past twenty years or so, I've spent June, and a few days either side, sequestered in a darkened room, with a guitar, my books, and a big bag of weed, with which I would self-medicate. Now I am a married man this is not possible, and flaming June seems to have taken on a nightmare quality wherein I have nested dreams of my lungs being on fire. Today though they merely smoulder.

May your breath come easy to you.
Do good things and go well.

Profile

johnny9fingers: (Default)
johnny9fingers

June 2021

S M T W T F S
  12345
6789 101112
13141516171819
20212223242526
27282930   

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jun. 5th, 2025 04:16 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios